Ruroken Retold in Haiku and Tanka (and other forms of verse)
by Pale Moon Swamp
Summary: The wives wave goodbye to the bandits, and pray for their safe return and saddlebags packed with produce and coin. Though unscarred by battle, the young man knows how necessary his defiance of the ruling powers is, and he walks down the mountain path up to the battlefront, already tranquil.
1. Sticks and Stones - 1

Grey morning light spat  
mercilessly through the clouds  
and casted but a  
bleak light on the shallow graves  
that he'd dug with these hands last night.


	2. Sticks and Stones - 2

The way that he sat  
he might have been a statue,  
or even a ghost.  
He was right there, but he felt  
like he wasn't there at all.

* * *

A/N

Hi there Wilhelm Wigworthy and ClosetRomantic, thank you for your kind words and encouragement. You guys are making me blush!  
I'll definitely keep working on this (currently Tomoe's got me slaving over her part; truly, I like her, but the girl's been giving me unpleasant headaches! I'm sure we'll eventually come to an agreement though. ;)). The thing I'm worried about is, well... I just hope I can deliver something decent.  
I enjoy both writing and learning, and definitely wish to do some of the latter, so to all readers: criticism is most welcome! :)  
Thanks for reading and until Monday!


	3. Sticks and stones - 3

The dead lay buried  
neath dirt and makeshift crosses –  
no longer troubled  
about the state of the world  
or the doings of the living.


	4. Sticks and Stones - 4

The ragged child stirred when  
a man headed towards him.  
Towering, solid –  
a mountain. Perhaps he'd come  
to right the wrong that spared him.


	5. Sticks and Stones - 5

The man walked up as  
the boy sat there, hands folded  
in his lap. Stone-like.  
Far off and outside of time –  
as a rock in white water.


	6. Sticks and Stones - 6

The two gazed upon  
the scene before them. A fat  
crow landed on a  
gravestone. A big hand took rest  
on one of his hunched shoulders.


	7. Sticks and Stones - 7

These graves you dug for  
bandits, slavers, friends alike –  
your strength of heart and  
grit you've proven to be true.  
Tell me now, what's your name, boy?


	8. Sticks and Stones - 8

From now on you're called  
Kenshin. Shinta is no name  
for the swordsman you'll become.

Come, Kenshin, let's go.  
You come with me. I'll teach you  
everything I know.


	9. Learning the Way of the Sword - 1

"Come at me, boy. Now!"  
Within the next four seconds  
he was on the ground,  
"Again!" out of breath and with  
new bumps and bruises, and "Go!"


	10. Learning the Way of the Sword - 2

One thousand sword strokes  
diagonally upwards,  
one thousand sword strokes  
diagonally downwards –  
he had better not lose count.


	11. Learning the Way of the Sword - 3

"Do not lose your sword,  
Observe before you attack,  
Know when to run, and  
Never kill unwittingly",  
he said after his master,  
his voice loud and clear.


	12. Learning the Way of the Sword - 4

'Tick!' 'Clack!' Jump. Dive. Fall.  
Shishou was fast. And agile.  
He would get him though!


	13. Learning the Way of the Sword - 5

Shishou'd shown him once,  
then he'd let him do it twice.  
But definitely  
he'd get it before noon, or  
he'd be doing it all night.


	14. Learning the Way of the Sword - 6

Fighting blindfolded,  
brought down on his hands and knees,  
bloodied and muddied.  
Surely this served some purpose,  
if only he could see it!

Sound reached his ears,  
it was shishou's rumbling voice  
coming from the left.  
"Don't go lying around now,  
get back on your feet;  
there's only one way to fail,  
and that's to give up!"

He rose to his feet.  
And stood on the trampled grass,  
rocks scattered around,  
and worms sticking out their heads.  
He stood like a king.  
Giving up he didn't do–  
And then could see.


	15. Learning the Way of the Sword - 7

knee deep  
in the fast flowing river  
trying to keep up with that man  
who made a point of proving  
that he was maddeningly fast  
and fiercely challenging


	16. Learning the Way of the Sword - 8

A/N  
A big thank you to Out of Books for beta reading this chapter, showing me the requisite map I sorta tossed, teaching me very useful things, and reminding me of things I think I perhaps was trying to forget. Your help is much appreciated.

Writing and rewriting this one took all sorts of courage, some of which I wasn't sure I had. Like seeing some mountain that you decide will be splendid fun to climb and then half way through come to realize how insurmountable it is. That damn bloody mountain! My big bloody mouth! And there are dangers too, you know, and no true way back.  
Now that I've gotten to the other side, I sorta feel silly. And chafed. I'm glad I finished it and I hope you'll enjoy it. As always, I'd love hearing your thoughts on this chapter too. But for now please excuse me while I go and sip on an Okinawa Sunrise and make light conversation with the demons in my head.

* * *

You have but one life.  
Know its value, hold it dear.  
It's fools who rush in  
where the hero fears going.  
He is the one who stands, and  
endures, does his job,  
because others need him to.  
\- So shishou, like you?

He could almost hear  
the frog's croak in shishou's look:  
He was eyeing him  
the same as when he'd brought him  
home a limping frog to heal.

_H__e buzzed round shishou  
like dragonflies. Promting him  
to __save__ his __pal__ Rin._

_And watched confusion  
and annoyance blend smoothly  
on the swordsman's face;_

_His own emotions  
being reflected there too  
when shishou queried:_

_Boy, you were  
talking 'bout a frog!  
Now who's Rin?_

_He offered training  
extra hard and doing chores  
an extra bunch, for  
the frog he'd met while fishing  
merited no hurting leg._

_Unexpectedly  
shishou's question followed – rain  
through a repaired roof:_

_Just few get  
what's deserved, and how  
do you tell?_

_Answering felt like  
pulling up pails – clear water  
from the deepest well. _

_You have to,  
he__'__s hurting, __and you've  
fixed _me_ too!_

_Instead of more chores  
and kata – impossible,  
but preferable,  
he was to put Rin to sleep,  
should the swordsman not succeed._

_Whom he'd meant to save  
might not survive the saving.  
His responsibility._

When shishou  
at last spoke, his words  
were riddled:

I'm not sure...  
But I am convinced  
you're ready.


	17. Learning the Way of the Sword - 9

Wide-eyed and careful,  
yet with eager fingers, did  
he first hold live steel.

He tried the blade, let  
it cut clean pieces of blue  
topped with tufts of white.

Heavier than his  
wooden one, it left trailing  
behind lighter sounds

and on the  
ground shadows slightly  
wispier.

He swooshed it around  
in graceful arcs and with a  
startling compliance  
it obeyed his every wish  
and followed his every move.

Swinging the new sword,  
delight tickled his lips and  
pride flooded his chest.

He glanced at shishou:  
Not at all did the sword feel  
that heavy to him!  
The other replied with eyes  
so stern, he nearly toppled.

Of course it didn't.  
Not yet. Not till real usage -  
she was still untried.

"And of  
the finest  
make, boy."

"But don't you forget  
that you're only strong enough  
to hold it steady  
cause of hard work, adhering  
to my training night and day..."

His colors and shapes  
reflected on the metal  
with which he'd one day  
create justice... But for now-  
"Now, boy!" he'd train harder still!


End file.
